Embezzlement
by Thomas Ford
Summary: ***3RD CHAPTER UP*** A bank president is killed and Walker, Trivette, and Graff must find out why he was killed and who is embezzling money from the bank. Please R
1. The Banker's Bullet

Disclaimer: I do not own "Walker, Texas Ranger" or any  
  
characters thereof. Lieutenant Graff, however, is of my own  
  
imagination.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter 1: Banker's Bullet.  
  
A man walked through the revolving door very slowly.  
  
Heel to toe, heel to toe. His trench coat hung down to his  
  
ankles. The rain outside was horrendous, hence the trench  
  
coat. As he walked through the metal detector it went off.   
  
"Sir, could you please open your coat?" The guard  
  
asked.  
  
"Certainly," the man said and opened his coat.   
  
The guard looked on the man's right hip and saw the 45  
  
caliber pistol. He looked on the left side of the man's  
  
chest and saw the star.  
  
The guard spoke again, "Sir, please identify yourself."  
  
"Lieutenant James Graff of the Company B Texas  
  
Rangers," the man under the Stetson answered.  
  
The guard thumbed through his list of orders for the  
  
day. It had been an normally slow day at the Bank of Terrant  
  
County and the guard had a short list of orders. One was a  
  
meeting of a Texas Ranger with the owner of the bank.  
  
"You may go and see Mr. Valentine, now, Ranger."  
  
"Thank you," Graff said. He closed his coat and walked  
  
to the back of the bank to the office of Michael Valentine.  
  
The bank's funds had recently been declining and Graff had  
  
been called in that evening by Valentine to discuss the  
  
situation.  
  
The office was decorated in a western them-what a  
  
surprise for Texas. The window was large and it overlooked  
  
the county and Dallas city limits and it was all accented,  
  
or did accent, the seven foot span longhorn steer skull  
  
above Valentine's desk.  
  
"Ranger, please sit," Valentine said motioning to a  
  
chair and Graff sat. "Now about my funds."  
  
"Yes, I've been running that through my head. It can  
  
only be someone in your bank. The co-owner, vice-president,  
  
or someone like that. Have you talked to them or in any  
  
other way extracted anything useful from them?"  
  
Valentine blinked a couple of times before he spoke.  
  
"No, I haven't."  
  
Graff sighed. "Then I cannot help you now. Call me when  
  
you have interviewed them and figured out something.  
  
Good-bye, Mr. Valentine."  
  
Valentine decided right there that he did not want to  
  
deal with Lieutenant Graff again. He would rather deal with  
  
Sergeants Walker or Trivette. They were much more civilized  
  
and less demanding.   
  
Graff stood, turned on his heel, and left the office,  
  
but just as he walked out of the door he heard the glass  
  
break and he immediately rushed back into the office, pistol  
  
drawn. Sure enough, Valentine had been killed. The glass was  
  
shattered and the rain of the night was pouring in.  
  
Valentine was slumped over his desk with a bullet hole in  
  
the back of his head.   
  
Graff immediately hit the floor and took cover in front  
  
of Valentine's desk incase another shot were to follow. He  
  
reached up and slid Valentine's phone to the edge of the  
  
desk and called Ranger Headquarters. Walker's extension.  
  
Walker answered. "Ranger Walker."  
  
"Walker, it's Graff. The President of the Terrant  
  
County bank was just killed. Can you and Trivette come out  
  
here?" Graff's voice was controlled and cool.  
  
"Yeah, we'll be right there," Walker said and hung up.  
  
Graff crawled from the office, then stood up and closed  
  
the door. He explained in a low voice to the security guard  
  
what had just happened and that he had already called for  
  
backup and then he told the bank that there was a situation  
  
and everyone but the people on the bank's payroll had to be  
  
cleared out. The people gladly obliged and cleared the bank.   
  
Then Graff tentatively stepped back into Valentine's  
  
office, pistol drawn, and carefully started his  
  
investigation and he was doing so when Walker and Trivette  
  
arrived moments later.  
  
"What happened?" Trivette asked.  
  
Graff explained to them both about the depleting funds  
  
and the conversation Graff had with Valentine and then he  
  
explained him stepping from the office and the glass  
  
breaking and then coming back in to see Valentine dead.  
  
Graff then carefully lifted Valentine's head up and sat  
  
Valentine like he was when he was shot. He was checking the  
  
trajectory of the bullet. He then put Valentine back dead  
  
the way he was.  
  
"Call forensics," Graff said. 


	2. That's the Law

Disclaimer: I do not own "Walker, Texas Ranger" or any  
  
characters thereof. Lieutenant Graff, however, is of my own  
  
imagination.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter 2: "That's the LAW."  
  
The yellow coroner's bag zipped up over Valentine's  
  
bloody head and he was lifted onto the coroner's vehicle. It  
  
was close to midnight when the body was wheeled away and  
  
Walker, Trivettte, and Graff were still there.  
  
Walker said, "I don't know. Could be anyone embezzling  
  
the funds."  
  
"Yeah, but who would want Valentine dead?" Trivette  
  
asked.  
  
Graff spoke, "We have to question each and every person  
  
who has access to the bank accounts."  
  
"You feel like taking care of that, Graff? Alex expects  
  
me home," Walker said. No one was allowed to leave the bank  
  
and the people were all irritable.  
  
Graff smiled. "No, I don't mind. Trivette, want to stay  
  
and help me?"  
  
"Can't it wait until tomorrow?" Trivette said.  
  
"You know, I could order you to," the lieutenant said.  
  
"Point taken. I'll stay and help," Trivette said.  
  
"Excellent. Walker, take care. Tell Alex I said hi."  
  
Walker chuckled. "I'll do that." He turned and just as  
  
he got to the exit he turned around, smiling. "Oh, Graff.  
  
Don't be too hard on Trivette." Walker exited the bank.  
  
Graff chuckled and turned back to Trivette. "Let's get  
  
started. Everyone has access to the accounts including the  
  
tellers. Leave no one out, question everyone. I'll start  
  
with the higher-ups, you start with the tellers."  
  
"Graff, we're going to be here until morning. It's  
  
insane. We don't do things in the Rangers the way you did in  
  
the FBI. Let's leave it until tomorrow. You shouldn't have  
  
made them stay anyway."  
  
Graff looked thoughtful. "Perhaps you are correct. I apologize." Graff turned to the people in the bank and told them  
  
that they may go home, but they would still be expected to  
  
report to work the next day. They all agreed and filed out  
  
of the door one by one. The security guard followed Trivette  
  
and Graff and he locked the door.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Graff had sold his Dodge Ram the week before the bank  
  
incident and bought a nineteen-sixty-nine Dodge Charger with  
  
a 440 Big Block Hemi and a racing transmission. He took a  
  
day off and painted his badge on either door two days before  
  
the bank predicament. Also he put on a whole new body that  
  
was bulletproof like Walker's truck. It was the fastest car  
  
in the Ranger's force and with the Ranger's work that could  
  
be a good thing.  
  
The Charger rumbled into Ranger Headquarters and Graff  
  
parked in his parking spot, got out, and entered the  
  
building.   
  
In the office Graff sat at his desk and started his  
  
paperwork after he got his coffee.  
  
"Hey, Walker," Graff called.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"They always say about the glamour of the local law  
  
enforcement sector, but they never tell you about the  
  
paperwork," Graff said sourly.  
  
"Local? Our jurisdiction is the state of Texas," Walker  
  
said.  
  
"My jurisdiction used to be all fifty states," Graff  
  
reminded. The FBI had seemed like a good job to Graff, and  
  
it was. He had seen all fifty states. Encountered things  
  
that State and local law enforcement couldn't even handle  
  
together. Graff had seen gruesome deaths that almost made  
  
him vomit. He had seen more drugs than the Dallas Cowboys of  
  
old. He didn't have any paperwork in his seven years in the  
  
Federal Bureau of Investigation, but as soon as he came to  
  
state law enforcement he had paperwork.  
  
Trivette walked in with a sheet of paper in his hand  
  
and said, urgently, "We have a problem. A hijacking turned  
  
bad. Five armed men hijacked an armored car heading from the  
  
Terrant County Bank."  
  
Graff was grabbing his hat as he said, "That goes past  
  
the lines of embezzlement." They rushed out of the door with  
  
Rangers Sydney Cooke and Francis Gage following them.  
  
"You lead, Walker. We'll follow you," Gage said as they  
  
closed the Company B door.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Walker's Ram led the way followed by Graff's Charger and  
  
then Gage in Trivette's Mustang. They were heading to the  
  
highway where the armored car was speeding towards state  
  
lines to go into Mexico.  
  
Graff beeped at Walker and when Walker didn't speed up  
  
Graff passed him and sped up to at least one-hundred fifty  
  
miles per hour.   
  
"Graff," Walker said through the CB radio.  
  
"Yeah, Walker?" Graff said, pushing the accelerator  
  
down more.  
  
"Could you slow down a bit?"   
  
Graff smiled. "Could you speed up a bit?"  
  
Trivette laughed. "Yeah, Walker. This thing will go  
  
that fast."  
  
Walker floored the accelerator and caught up to Graff  
  
and Trivette gave the instructions to Graff of where to go  
  
so they would come up behind the car.  
  
The armored car was loaded down with the bank's things  
  
and was going as fast as it could and then suddenly it slid  
  
to its side and so did its escorts. The three Ranger cars  
  
stopped and stood in the crux of their opened doors to be  
  
ready for the firefight that was coming.   
  
It started with automatic fire from the robbers and  
  
return fire from Graff's shot-gun. Then it mounted up to  
  
defening proportions. When it was clear they were going to  
  
lose one robber popped up with a LAW rocket launcher-"If I  
  
can see you, I can kill you, that's the LAW"- and fired it.  
  
It was so sudden that the Rangers didn't know what happened  
  
until Trivette's Mustang blew up, and with it Gage and  
  
Sydney. The robbers slipped into their cars and drove away  
  
in the confusion, but they had Lieutenant Graff on their  
  
tails and he stayed that way until the robbers made a fatal  
  
mistake of letting Graff shoot out their tires.  
  
"Walker, Walker, are you there?" Graff called on the CB  
  
minutes later.  
  
"Yeah, Graff, go ahead," Walker said solemnly.  
  
"I've got the local police down here bringing the  
  
robbers back up north. I'm on my way back now. Did you," he  
  
paused, "find them?"  
  
"No, they must've been," he let the thought trail off.  
  
"I hear you," Graff said and set the mic down and drove  
  
back up north. It was a solemn occasion. Gage and Sydney  
  
didn't even know what hit them and they were both dead now.  
  
Graff never particularly liked them. He was more worried  
  
about the insurance on Trivette's car going through.  
  
Forensics were called out once again and roads were blocked.  
  
This time it was for Rangers death, and not a robber. That  
  
didn't happen often. 


	3. Interrogation

Chapter 3: Interrogation  
  
The office was solemn as Gage's and Sydney's things  
  
were packed up in boxes to make room for two new Rangers  
  
that would be added to Company B. Graff sat doing paperwok,  
  
but he looked up and stretched.   
  
Trivette shook his head and said, "You really don't  
  
care that they died, do you?"  
  
Graff looked at Trivette. "To tell you the truth, I'm  
  
more worried about the insurance on your car going through."  
  
Walker sighed and said, sharply, "This is why you are  
  
still single."  
  
Graff cleared his throat and drew his pistol in the  
  
blink of an eye. "I'm sorry? Why have you intruded yourself  
  
into my personal life?"  
  
Walker never flinched and held up his hand as Trivette  
  
went for his pistol. "You could be a little more sensitive,  
  
Graff. We did like them you know."  
  
"Trivette asked me and I always tell the truth," Graff  
  
said and holstered his pistol. Many people did not like him  
  
for he really had no emotions and was anti-social.  
  
Graff changed the subject to one of importance. "We  
  
have to interrogate those bankers today. Now, in fact. let's  
  
roll." He stood, put on his hat, and walked out of the door  
  
with Walker and Trivette following him. "Mind if we take my  
  
car?"  
  
"Not at all," Walker said.  
  
"Why not?" Trivette said and the three entered the  
  
elevator to go down to Graff's car and go talk to the  
  
bankers.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Graff did not speed this time, but obeyed the speed  
  
limit all the way to the bank. The time had come for them to  
  
interrogate the bankers to try and find out who the  
  
embezzeler was.   
  
"Trivette, you and Walker talk to the tellers, I'll get  
  
the higher ups," Graff said and walked to the offices of the  
  
officials of the back.  
  
The first office was the vice president. Graff knocked  
  
on the door and walked in when he was admitted enterance. He  
  
sat in front of the VP.  
  
"May I help you, Ranger?" The VP was a short man, even  
  
sitting behind his desk, he was balding and his stomach hung  
  
over the handles of the chair. A sharp contrast to the tall,  
  
lean, muscular build of Lieutenant Graff.  
  
"Yes, we're trying to find out more of the death of  
  
Micheal Valentine and find out who was embezzeling funds,"  
  
Graff said. The VP was sweating, was it a sign of  
  
nervousness or did he always sweat? Graff coudn't tell. "Can  
  
you tell me anything?"  
  
The VP's deep southern drawl contrasted Graff's voice,  
  
also. "No, suh, I can't say that I do. I've been wondrin'  
  
myself who stole all that money. I haven't got around to  
  
questionin' my people."  
  
"I see," Graff said. It was difficult for him not to  
  
adopt the same accent as the VP. Was he lying? Graff could  
  
not tell. Graff thought, Seven years in the FBI and I can't  
  
tell, I must be getting rusty. "Well, we're doing that now.  
  
We'll have this cleard up in no time."  
  
The VP paused and his voice cracked an almost  
  
unnoticeable trace when he said, "Well, suh, I do thank  
  
you."  
  
Graff controlled his eyebrows from shooting up. He  
  
said, "Well, we'll be out of your," he glanced at the VP's  
  
head, "bank, when we can."  
  
Graff stood and left the office. He moved to the next  
  
officials office, but got nothing from them, they were  
  
clean, so was all of the rest of the officials. It had to be  
  
the vice president, unless Trivette or Walker had found  
  
something from one of the tellers, but that was unlikely.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Back at Headquarters, the three Rangers compared what  
  
they had. Graff's information was the only one that could  
  
lead to the embezzler. The Rangers sat the rest of the day  
  
at their desks, just talking and thinking. They didn't have  
  
enough information to arrest the VP. So the next question  
  
was: how did they go about getting that information?  
  
"Trivette, I want you to get his files, look him up,  
  
see what you can find. Walker, keep doing what you're doing,  
  
I'll race Trivette," Graff said and swiveled around to his  
  
computer. His fingers flew across the keyboard at amaing  
  
speeds.  
  
"Quick draw, quick at the computer. Is there anything  
  
that you can't do quick?" Walker said.   
  
"Yeah," Graff said, "my taxes." 


End file.
